


Banter

by icylook



Series: Vergil Surana [15]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 11:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19356034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icylook/pseuds/icylook
Summary: “You are not going to doubt if it will work?” She asked, voice laced with sceptical suspicion.He stretched and sat up, sheets pooling in his lap.“Should I question the logic we both agreed on?” Vergil asked with a raised brow. “I trust your magic.”





	Banter

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr drabble posted on Vergil's blog (icy-warden on tumblr) with minor edits.
> 
> Timeline: last night at the Redcliffe castle, before the march to Denerim

Vergil was absently brushing his hair, when he heard knocking on the door to his room. He startled a little and glanced at the nighstand. The necklace with a golden earring was lying down, tangled, exactly where he had thrown it in anger hours ago. He swallowed, willing the odd crushing feeling in his chest to go away.

Whoever was at the door was polite enough to wait a moment longer, before starting to knock again. Vergil put the comb down with more force than necessary, then went to answer his visitor.

He quelled the slight disappointment after he saw the person standing before him.

“Am I interrupting something?” Morrigan asked, looking at the Warden’s attire. She took a quick peek above his shoulder, scanning the room briefly. “If not, I’d like to talk with you.”

Vergil tiredly gestured _“come in”_ and turned away wordlessly, walking to the small table with the bottle of wine on it. He heard the door’s closing and started to pour some of the wine to one of the mugs. The mage felt Morrigan’s eyes on him and heard silent footsteps nearing.

“I would say I’m surprised to find you alone at this time of the day,” Her melodious voice broke the silence, “But a blind man would see, that your dance with the assassin has come to a graceless halt lately.”

Vergil’s immediate response was to lash out about her assumptions, but he hold it in. She didn’t deserve his ire, even when stating the obvious. He firmly curled his fingers on the mug he was drinking of. Then he fully turned to Morrigan and took a swig of the wine, staring at her in dare. She huffed an irritated breath, one hand on her hip.

“ _Children,_ ” She shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose. “To see both of you moping and nearly tripping yourselves, trying to get out of each others way…” Morrigan glanced at Vergil meaningfully. “I’d say it’s amusing to watch, but it got boring very quickly. The way you-”

“Don’t.” He interrupted softly. “You didn’t come here to offer me a _relationship_ advice.” Vergil leaned back on the table, half sitting on it. “But I’d like to actually catch a few hours of sleep tonight, so if you’d be so kind and get to the point.” He added with a small smirk.

“Very well.” Morrigan eyed him pointedly. “I have a proposition for you.”

He stared at the contents of his wine mug, spinning the liquid lazily. “And that proposition would consist of?”

“It’d give you a chance of the life after the ending.” Vergil’s posture stiffened momentarily and he looked up sharply. He narrowed his eyes, looking at her face, searching for a lie. She looked back calmly, her gaze equally piercing and unflinching.

The mage straightened up and put the mug down somewhere behind him.

“Do tell more.”

* * *

He was lying with closed eyes, breathing slowly, listening to the rustle of clothes and cracking firewood. Vergil felt a presence hovering nearby. He drowsily cracked one eye open. “Hmm?”

Morrigan, once again fully clothed, perched on the edge of the bed.

“You are not going to doubt if it will work?” She asked, voice laced with sceptical suspicion.

He stretched and sat up, sheets pooling in his lap.

“Should I question the logic we both agreed on?” Vergil asked with a raised brow. “I trust your magic.” _I trust you_ went unspoken. Something akin to delightful astonishment appeared on Morrigan’s face. She quickly masked it with mildly pleased expression.

“Still,” She glanced at the necklace on the nighstand. “I’d expected you to put more of a fight.” At his soft questioning noise, she added. “On the side of being _unfaitful_.”

He followed her gaze, focusing on the golden trinket.

“It’s a banter, isn’t it?” Vergil looked at his hands, slowly clenching them on the material of the bedding. “You give me something I want, I give you something you want.” He grinned lazily, looking up at her. “ _Mutual benefit_.”

Morrigan held his eyes for a moment, then stood up.

“Do me a favour and don’t get yourself killed before making it to the dragon.”

“Or you’ll miss me?” He teased, standing up from the bed, padding to the wine bottle left on the table. He didn’t bother with covering himself with anything.

“ _Hardly._ ” She scoffed. Then, Morrigan visibly hesitated before opening the door.

“You are too proud to reach out.” She stated quietly and Vergil knew instantly about who exactly was she talking about. It stinged, as truth usually did. “Something we have in common, it seems.” He muttered under his breath. The mage heard her sigh.

“Should you change your mind, check the eastern rooftops. Drinking alone and pining, I swear…” Vergil bristled at that, spinning to face her with harsh _“I don't”_ on his lips, only to find the room deserted.

All of the sudden irritation melted away, leaving only a dull ache in his chest.

Unhurriedly, he approached the nighstand, fingers hovering unsurely above the earring. He exhaled roughly, his hand closing on empty air.

First, he had to put on some clothes. Then… find someone who probably didn’t want to be found.


End file.
